Heads And Tails
by worldtravellingfly
Summary: They were Yin and Yang, Heads and Tails, Clint and Gladdy. Where one went, the other followed. For 'tlyxor1'. (Fem!Harry) (AU)


**Heads And Tails**

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 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the rights pertaining to the Harry Potter Universe or Marvel Comics. Neither do I profit from them. No copyright infringement intended.

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So, this one shot came into existence after I received a prompt from tlyxor1. The prompt asked me to write a fanfiction in which: "(...)fem!Harry joins the same circus as Clint, and they go from there. Best friends, partners in crime and crime fighting, later lovers, all the while fem!Harry is hunted by the wizards, and the pair - Clint and fem!Harry - are already trained in magic themselves." Except for Clint being a wizard, I pretty much tried to fulfill the request word for word.

Gladiolus, the flower, can mean: strength of character, love at first sight, generosity.

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 **Summary:** They were Yin and Yang, Heads and Tails, Clint and Gladdy. Where one went, the other followed. For 'tlyxor1'. (Fem!Harry) (AU)

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She met him one rainy Friday afternoon, on her way back from school. He was helping a grown-up to put up the colorful advertisements for a wandering circus that would stay in town for a bit. A young blonde boy with sharp blue eyes which seemed a bit too old for his little face. (But she couldn't really throw stones or anything – her emerald orbs looked exactly the same.)

His blue eyes met hers and two kindred spirits recognized each other, even in the drizzling, windy English weather. Somehow, it only took him to grab her hand tightly in his own to drag her along. He made her drink some hot chocolate, change into a set of dry clothes which hung off of her scrawny frame like potato sacks, and volunteered his favorite treat, so she had something to eat while his brother was gone.

"I'm Clint. Clint Barton."

"I'm Gladiola. Gladiola Potter," she replied with a light lisp, unused to speaking much, especially in the company of strangers. Then she added self-consciously: "I want to stay, with you."

"Can I call you Gladdy? Your name is a bit long."

She blushed in pleased silence and nodded.

That's really how they began.

* * *

Almost four years later, to the day they met, the letters began to arrive. They multiplied, ceaselessly haunting her every step. Even after she managed to catch an owl (of all possible things) delivering one of the letters, so she could actually reply. After making sure she had quite irrefutably conveyed that no, she did not want to leave her current home, thank you very much, and go to Hogwarts for her education, it was being taken care of already, so could they please stop sending her invitations? Gladdy decided it was time to run away. Clint had been planning to do so in secret ever since his brother had made it clear he did not want to feed another brat through puberty.

So, they secretly packed up their things and left quietly, hidden safely in the crowds after a big performance in New York City.

Clint took up pick-pocketing to provide food for them, while Gladdy had his back. She was an excellent judge of character, knowing who would have money and who only carried credit cards. She also knew how to manipulate their targets, having learned the skill from trying to please her unpleasant relatives.

They lived on the streets, in abandoned buildings, sleeping on park benches, and in train stations. Occasionally, also in trees or on roof-tops. (Clint liked heights. It comforted him to know he was safely above the ground.)

They never remained in one place for too long, out of fear of being separated by the wizards still chasing after Gladdy.

That's how they began their entanglement in the underground.

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A few months after Gladdy turned fifteen, she was propositioned for the first time. It was dark out, night, and they had used the rusty fire escapes to climb a roof for their current sleeping place. Clint was doing a job for a local client and was not expected back yet. Someone had followed Gladdy 'home', roughly grabbing her by the arm and forcing her to turn back around, to face the bastard. The man – he was around twenty-five to thirty, black-haired, brown-eyed, and very, very drunk – grabbed her face, pressing their lips together. She tried to shove him off of her, to push him away, to defend herself. But she was still too sore from a previous job which had ended in blows.

Her salvation came, as it always seemed to, in Clint's early return. He punched her aggressor hard enough to knock him out bloody. Then he checked her over for any other injuries. After determining that Gladdy was physically fine, Clint hugged her tightly.

"Never again," he swore feverishly, pressing his own lips against her raven hair in the same reassuring gesture they had had established for years.

Gladdy didn't hold that incident against Clint, nor did she ever resent him for leaving her open to an attack. She was simply grateful he had come when he did and pressed herself tighter against his warm body.

Over the years, her best friend had grown into a semblance of the attractive man he would become one day. The jobs he did on the side left him with muscles and a six pack for abs. She liked him, although Gladdy could thankfully control the giggles and blushes around him.

"Never again," she agreed.

That's how they began their crime-fighting career.

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Two years later, SHIELD came knocking, so to speak. Gladdy was in the process of drying her long ebony tresses after an – invigorating – shower when Clint opened the door to their hotel room, grumbling low under his breath about the police or FBI or whoever decided to dare knock at their door in the middle of the night.

It was a rather plain man, wearing a plain black suit, and a plain expression. He introduced himself as 'Agent Coulson, of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division'. Clint rather boldly told him, straight in the face, that they would need a shorter name for that, no one would be able to remember all those words anyway.

Agent Coulson thankfully did not take it personally. Instead, he somehow managed to persuade the two of them to join his Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, which turned out to be just another kind of circus. Both teens would work under him, Agent Coulson was their official handler. He made certain that the wizards backed off, finally, and that they could stay in one place for longer than 48 hours. Without someone trying to break down the door.  
They were sent on missions that did not impact Gladdy's moral compass or Clint's separation anxiety. One of these missions included the elimination of a wizard terrorist in Great Britain, after it had become clear he was after Gladdy – or rather her life. Clint did not take kindly to such people. Where he went, she followed, so to Great Britain it was.

Another mission earned them a lifelong friend in the infamously ruthless Black Widow. Neither Clint nor Gladdy knew quite how they had convinced the redhead to refrain from killing either of them and to join up with their circus life instead. They did though, and Agent Coulson became simply Phil, in private at least. His fond exasperation at them bringing a stray home was what clinched that deal. (But don't tell. He still thought it was the way he clucked over Gladdy in the infirmary...)

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Ten years after they first met, Clint gave her a small silver ring which he had to have saved almost all of his wages for. It was simple, elegant, and very much the opposite of pretentious. Gladdy loved it, kissed his cheek, and then went back to snuggling into his arms.

It was no secret on base that they shared quarters (and most likely also one bed), but the one and only person that commented was later found traumatized in the cook's extra large soup pot, shivering in horror. He never said anything again. Nor did anyone else.

Natasha of course knew immediately, congratulating the couple in her own way. Phil turned a blind eye to their non-platonic interactions and simply nodded at them, conveying his well wishes for their future in his own way.

Four years later, Gladdy married Clint in a secret ceremony, in the middle of nowhere. They bought a small rundown farm in Iowa with her inheritance and his savings. Clint promised to polish the place up for her, as his wedding present to his new wife. She sheepishly handed him a wrapped box containing a Congratulations on the Baby!-card.

Phil simply sighed, but accepted her notice of retirement. Gladdy avoided Natasha for the most part, until the redhead cornered her in the corridors of Headquarters and gave her a very rare hug.

That's how they began their life After.

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When the world seemed to have turned upside down and it rained aliens in New York City, Gladdy had given birth to two healthy children, a boy and a girl (in reverse order), hidden away in the middle of nowhere. She maintained strong wards around their little sanctuary from the world, including the Fidelius Charm. Their Secret Keeper was Gladdy herself, because she was never sent out on missions anymore. Instead, she brewed poisons and potions for her hubby, because he better not get hurt. Or else.

She was still one half of their whole, still a part of their team, retirement or no.

When Clint returned home after those horror-filled weeks, which Gladdy spent wondering if she still had a husband or not, the raven-haired beauty kissed him long, hard, and unrelentingly until they both had trouble breathing.

"Never again," she quoted at him, steadfastly holding his gaze. She could read the shame, guilt, and anxiety in them, but this was Clint. Her Clint. He would always be her best friend, lover, and husband. The Tails to her Heads.

He quirked a small, exhausted smile. "Never again," he agreed, sealing their deal as all the others: with a kiss.

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As soon as Gladdy found out about the new public opinion concerning the Avengers, she called Clint. He needed a break from the publicity – and a chance to regain the energy he had lost. He and his teammates. They had protected his back in her stead, saving his life, so she felt she owed them that much. Besides, it wouldn't hurt if someone helped out around the farm. The kids were a bit tiring, especially now that she could not run around with them, toting her latest baby bump around.

Clint capitulated and agreed to the demands of his better half, thus one spoiled billionaire ex-playboy, an extra-terrestrial prince, an old-fashioned veteran from World War Two, a scientist that could also turn in a green rage-monster, and Natasha stopped by for a visit of some length.

Gladdy secretly laughed every time she saw Tony Stark wielding an ax in an effort to produce firewood. The kids entertained Natasha and Thor, the aforementioned prince. He seemed to love children, almost behaving like one of them for the majority of the time they had together. Only the scientist kept himself apart from the rest.

Gladdy was not sure why and she could hardly ask, seeing as she did not know the man all that well, but smiled whenever she noticed Natasha and Dr. Banner were flirting. She only hoped they all survived this crisis as well.

After that, Clint better start working on the nursery, so their baby would not have to sleep in their bedroom for the foreseeable future.

That's how they both became affiliated with the Avengers.

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A few months later, life had returned to normal. Clint had asked for – and been granted – leave until the baby was born. The kids loved to spend time with 'Daddy' and enjoyed every single second. When it was time for the newest Potter-Barton to be born, Gladdy was hardly surprised when almost all of her previous house-guests showed up, bearing blue balloons, ridiculous plushies, and the contents of half a flower shop. She smiled at them, tired, exhausted, and absolutely, deeply happy to finally hold her little boy in her arms. Clint just kissed her in thanks, suspiciously shining eyes screaming his own relieved happiness back at her.

Then he announced to the Avengers that he would retire from both SHIELD and the team to spend more time with the family. However, they were always welcome to stop by and visit. Especially when they needed a safe place to sleep.

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Two years later, the first part of a series of action thrillers was published. It was written by a married couple under the alias: 'G. Heads & C. Tails'. No one ever found out who they were, but their books quickly rose to the tops of every sales list, long lines building in front of book shops whenever a new part was released. Critics frequently commented that their descriptions seemed startlingly realistic.

Meanwhile, in a small community in Iowa, a rather nondescript family of five lived peaceful lives. They had a farm, three children, and dutifully went to church each Sunday. The wife was a homemaker, the husband a salesman that used to travel a lot, but now worked out of a home office after receiving a promotion. Their kids developed into polite, self-possessed, confident teens with a talent for archery and martial arts.


End file.
